Unreasonable Reasoning
by YourAverageObsessiveGirl
Summary: Shawn Spencer doesn't often have an understandable reason for anything he does. But that's mostly because boredom isn't a good reason anymore.


Shawn Spencer didn't often have a reasonable reason for doing what he did. Or, maybe it was just unreasonable to others. Because, guaranteed, whatever Shawn did, there was a reason, no matter how screwy or convoluted it may be. So there was probably a reason Shawn broke into Lassiter's apartment on more than one occasion. But that reason was illogical, and fuzzy, and a whole plethora of other confusing verbs and adjectives.

And because Shawn could never explain why properly in words, and boredom wasn't an appropriate excuse for some reason Shawn couldn't quite grasp, he simply never told anyone. He would just wait, and see if someone noticed. That was normally the most exciting part; the waiting.

That mischievous excitement right before someone runs directly into a wall of plastic wrap, or the glee you get when someone unwittingly walked into a room only to have a bucket of water dumped on their heads due an ingenious rig (Admittedly, Shawn had never tried this, but he had had glorious dreams of doing it since he was young).

So, because Shawn was, well, Shawn, the reasons for which Shawn broke into Lassiter's apartment would seem have been undoubtedly amusing, baffling, and possibly infuriating in the case of the trigger-happy detective.

But, in utmost honest, it had seriously been boredom. It was the only thing Shawn could find to sum it up.

Gus was off doing work-y things the first time, which had Shawn snorting in disdain, and Juliet was busy with paperwork. Normally, that wouldn't have deterred the psychic, but Gus had threatened to delete every TVoed episode of CHiPs if he caught word of it.

He had told Gus not to be an irate prairie dog, but knew Gus would hold true to his threat. Possibly. Shawn was never entirely sure Gus was as passionate about CHiPs as he was, so it could go either way.

But Shawn wasn't willing to risk it.

Now, normally in scenario's like these, Shawn would find something to do. Like covering Gus's desk in coloured Post-It notes, or screwing around with Gus's chair so it would either sink or collapse, or ordering pizza with totally awesome toppings (See; Skittles, extra cheese, and exactly four bits of bacon), and than delivering it to his dad.

Generally, playing with Gus's personal belongings did the trick. Sometimes though, he did like to go over the top with his schemes. Much to his annoyance, his super-duper-awesome fun schemes had been in short supply as of late.

He blamed the tender bruise on his forehead. He cringed a little at the memory. Being pistol-whipped wasn't an enjoyable experience. In fact, it had been kinda sucky. As had being punched in the face, but the pistol-whipping had been worse as far as suck-factors went. He wasn't sure if it made it worse that the baddie – Whatshisname, Ginormous cupcake dude- had tried to make it look like Lassie and he had been a couple.

He snorted a laugh at the idea. He and Lassiter? Lassieface? The salt-and-pepper-haired Irishman who finger's always twitched towards the gun at his waist when he saw the approaching psychic? Not a chance in Pineapple-flavored Hell. Well, maybe in Hell. But never conceivable in real life.

Despite the impossibility of it, Shawn paused to wonder momentarily. If it were to happen, would they have one of those celebrity couple names like Bragenlina, or Pattenstew (One of Shawn's own inventions.) If Gus had been around to hear the thought, he would've reminded Shawn that he probably had no idea who Robert Pattinson, or Kristen Stewart were, or the plot to the movies they were in. However, contrary to Gus's refusal to believe otherwise, Shawn knew very well the plot.

It was, quite clearly, a story about a girl on heavy depressants dealing with her boyfriend's love of sparkling body glitter, and her other male friend's atrocious haircut. And baseball. They played baseball.

Shawn shook his head. Sports movies had been going down the drain lately.

Pushing aside this complaint, and making a mental note to discuss it with Gus later, he resumed his earlier task.

Shassie? Lassitawn? Or maybe just shortened to Lawn. He liked Lawn. It would inconspicuous, and deeply confusing if one had no idea what was being discussed.

He shrugged it off though, because he wasn't going to date Lassiter. Besides, if he was going to have to date any man in the entire universe, it would probably be Ryan Seacrest's hair.

He checked his watch and snapped himself out of his reverie. He swung his legs off a couch that didn't belong to him, and stretched lazily. If Jules was busy with paperwork, he could safely assume Lassie was preoccupied as well. He rose and ambled aimlessly around the head detective's place. It was just as boring as Shawn remembered; missing all those personal Lassie touches. Granted, the wall of wanted posters and various crime related photos were probably as close as the Irishman got to personal touches.

He filed away another mental note to tell Lassiter that the spirits lurking in his house thought he should buy something more exciting to decorate the place. Maybe a brightly coloured throw pillow, even.

As Shawn walked past the pistachio bowl, he remembered Lassiter pulling a gun out of it not more than two weeks ago. He contemplated checking to see if it was still hidden there. But the more he thought about it, the less appealing it became to check. Besides, he would much rather find a gun that he didn't know the location of. It would be like an easter-egg hunt, only far less delicious, and far more dangerous.

But it was getting closer to six, and Shawn figured it would be better to be out before Lassiter could get home and go all intimidating cop on his ass. Also, he didn't think that Psych could afford to post bail again, or that his father would be willing too.

Despite his hurry to leave, it didn't stop Shawn from stealing some of Lassiter's more horrendous ties from a drawer in his bedroom (Curiously, no guns). He was pretty sure that Lassiter would thank him if the future if he was granted the gift of a sense of style.

But probably only after Lassie had shot him.


End file.
